


Love Isn't Always On Time

by Starknip



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), TiMER (2009)
Genre: M/M, Rating is for the good stuff at the end, Soulmates, TiMER AU, also swearing I guess, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starknip/pseuds/Starknip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d always hated the damn thing. It got in the way while he was tinkering: always catching on his soldering gloves; brushing against the wrists of his sleeves; even dragging on the smooth metal and seams of the Iron Man suit.</p><p>It was a fucking pain.</p><p>Not to mention the fact that it was stupid. True love. Right. It was an idiotic piece of biotechnology that he would definitely remove if he could. Soul-mates. What a bunch of garbage. </p><p>And his constantly glared at him with a crisp display of “<b>0000 d 00 h 00 m 00 s</b>.”</p><p>Just another thing about Tony Stark that was broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I’ve actually watched the movie, here’s my own little twist on a TiMER au for Tony/Steve. (Countdown on your wrist until you meet your soul-mate. It goes off at midnight the morning of, then if goes off again when you meet your soul-mate that day.)
> 
> In my version you’re born with one, though it doesn’t start to function until you turn 16, and it’s kind of in your skin. (Like the movie In Time?) So they’ve always existed, and there’s no installation process or anything. 
> 
> I am trying to stay as close to the Avengers movie canon as possible, here.
> 
> I apologize for it. Really self-indulgence on my part, and I haven’t written anything in such a long time.

He’d always hated the damn thing. It got in the way while he was tinkering: always catching on his soldering gloves; brushing against the wrists of his sleeves; even dragging on the smooth metal and seams of the Iron Man suit.

It was a fucking pain.

Not to mention the fact that it was stupid. True love. Right. It was an idiotic piece of biotechnology that he would definitely remove if he could. Soul-mates. What a bunch of garbage. 

And his constantly glared at him with a crisp display of “ **0000 d 00 h 00 m 00 s.** ”

Just another thing about Tony Stark that was broken.

The second he turned 16, it had blinked bright white, went online, then immediately dimmed after the blank lines turned into zeroes. Quite the party-stopper. Another disappointment to his father, not to mention all the businessmen waiting to marry him off to their daughters. 

He’d gone through so much in his life, and still this tiny, pointless thing pissed him off. Pepper had tried and tried to keep him from thinking about it, but eventually she gave up. She had Happy, after all.

He was, ha ha,  _ **happy**_  for them. Those two were definitely meant to be, and he couldn’t imagine them apart. And his right hand man Rhodey was supposed to meet his one-to-be soon enough. Just like the rest of the “normal” people.

He didn’t even care that he didn’t have a soul-mate. That they had died, or (god forbid, because he was too old for this shit) hadn’t been born yet. He was fine on his own. Always had been. Tony Stark against the world.

Okay, so maybe it did bother him that he didn’t have a soul-mate. Jealousy was a thing, you know. He just felt annoyed when it happened to him. Tony was someone so many aimed to be: Genius; easy on the eyes; hilarious; rich. But his childhood left much wanting in the way of family and love. Even basic human connections. 

So it was a reminder, much less than friendly, constantly in his eyesight, of things he hated about himself.

Which is why it nearly stopped his arc reactor when the thing went off.

—

Tony was making upgrades to his armor. He was ignoring Pepper’s waving hand gesturing at a pile of things to sign while Dummy set a drink disguised as a milkshake that was more than likely toxic next to him.

A sudden twinge at his wrist made him jump, making the mini-blowtorch and screwdriver he was holding fall to the lab table with a loud noise. The flame missed his glove by a fair inch. Good thing Pepper and JARVIS had bullied him into wearing them. He was running out of places to scar. “What the fuck?” 

Pepper was immediately at his side, her hip checking the table as she came around to his side. A few scraps fell to the floor, but they both ignored them. “What? What is it?” The words rushed from her mouth, delicate fingers reaching toward his shoulder. “Is it the ar-“

“No, no.” He cut her off and held up his right hand to stop her movement. “The ol’ chest battery’s fine . It’s nothing, just-” That’s when he saw it. Tony slowly turned his wrist to look closer and peek under the cuff of his dirty glove.

“…Tony?” When she saw what he was looking at, her thin eyebrows shot up, grabbing at him to get a proper look herself. She gasped, blinking at him. “But it was- How is that even possible?”

Tony pulled his expression to something neutral and almost succeeded in a level tone by the time he called out, “JARVIS?”

“Full body scan indicates no abnormalities,” came the voice from above them. Pepper’s grip tightened minutely.

“Of course not.” He rolled his eyes and gave an over-exaggerated sigh.

“Sir, I am sorry I cannot give you more data on the subject. You seem to be a special case,” JARVIS continued. 

“When is this shit ever textbook for me?” The brunet gently pulled himself from Pepper’s hold, then yanked off his work gloves and threw them on an empty space of the table. He pressed his left thumb into his right wrist, then when nothing happened, he shook it as if it would change the readout.

His head shot up. “Oh god, I’m going to be a cradle-robber.” Tony groaned.

**0019 d 14 h 27 m 43 s**

**0019 d 14 h 27 m 42 s**

**0019 d 14 h 27 m 41 s**

—

Steve Rogers was used to getting the short end of the stick. Poor, small, drunk for a father, and in the same unsavory health as his mother. But he dealt with everything as she taught him: “You always stand up.” Life would kick you down, but you had to stand back up. Face your problems.

Even a broken Timer.

A line of zeroes got a guy a worse reputation than just being on the smaller side. The dames wouldn’t take a second glance, and the guys beat him up. Good thing he always had Bucky. Partner in mischief and ready to stand up for him even when Steve didn’t ask him to.

Maybe another reason that he and Bucky got along so well was that his Timer was so high, and he always assumed it was broken. “ **6017 d** ” was not something one usually had on their wrist. Either way, they’d gotten along as kids, and that didn’t change once either of them got their Timers running. Or in Steve’s case, not running.

Then just before Bucky was shipped off for combat, Steve ended up in the Super Soldier Program. He was set up to be human perfection. The Pride of America. He didn’t forget about the Timer, though. The first thing that he did after stepping out of the machine was check his wrist. Maybe the serum had fixed that too, he thought. But he wasn’t so lucky. 

However, Agent Carter caught him looking, and showed him hers. “A set of big fat zeroes, Rogers,” she said with a wry scarlet-lipped smile. “Maybe we match.”

His heart swelled.

But of course it wasn’t meant to be. His last thought before going down with the plane was that maybe he didn’t have a soul-mate because he was meant to do this, to save his country. 

And that was okay.

It was fine.

—

So he was alive. In 2012.

_**In 2012.** _

So many things had changed, so many stayed the same.

Steve had been frozen in ice, and they revived him. If only Dr. Erskine could see what his serum had accomplished. 

It was a lot to keep up with, all the new sights, smells, technology. It was an odd feeling, being where you supposedly belonged, where you grew up, and it was all alien. 

He was sitting in the apartment S.H.I.E.L.D had set up for him after all the various testing and debriefing. It had taken a long time, but apparently they’d done their share of poking and prodding while he was asleep, so he was “free to roam,” as it were. This actually meant he was to stay in the confines of the city, and more than likely was being monitored at every turn. Not really anything he could do about it, though.

Steve ran his fingers over the files he’d been given again. So many good men dead, either in or out of the war. And then there was Peggy. Lovely, “zeroed out” Peggy. He couldn’t bring himself to call her. Even if he were allowed to. Would that violate one of Director Fury’s rules? Security protocols? Probably.

As he pushed them further away from himself, he caught a glimpse of his wrist. And that… that wasn’t what it should be.

It was… it was counting down. 

**0015 d 10 h 36 m 21 s**

_But that was impossible._

Steve stood up so fast he knocked over the wooden chair he was sitting in, ignoring the clatter it made when it fell to the floor. He had perfect eyesight, the serum had made sure of that, but he lifted his wrist inches from his face anyways. 

 _Fifteen days._ In just fifteen days, he was supposed to meet The One. How was he supposed to deal with that?

He’d only come out of the ice alive four days ago, and woken up a day after that. How had Steve not noticed? It was something he’d been so conscious about before, so worried and- 

But that’s why. He’d grown so used to seeing all the zeroes he hadn’t even thought to check. The sky was blue, birds flew, and he didn’t have a soul-mate. Except apparently now he did.

He couldn’t help but be a little angry at the damn thing. As if it had a little mind of its own, and it knew all of this was going to happen. That Steve would lose everyone. That he’d die and rise again, in a foreign land,  _alone_ , and only **then**  could he find love at last. Like some messed up fairy tale.

For a moment he felt as if his asthma was acting up, like the new world and information was too much, suffocating him. Steve sunk to the floor, left leg pushing the sideways chair further across the wood paneling. He closed his eyes and focused on the _in_  and  _out_  of his lungs, hands curled into tight fists. Relax. Breathe. Relax.

_“You always stand up.”_

Blue eyes flew open. That’s right. He could do this. It was going to happen, and the best he could do was stand up and face it. He pushed himself up, leaning to grab and right the furniture.

For now, he had 15 days. For now, he’d get some fresh air. Steve picked up the sketchpad he’d requested from S.H.I.E.L.D. and a few pencils. He grabbed his leather jacket from the hook on the wall, patting his pocket to make sure he had the keys. 

He’d been meaning to take a look at Stark Tower.

**0015 d 10 h 18 m 13 s**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Crash for her amazing Beta abilities and the best ideas to the little points in this story.

It’s a PR disaster. Every gossip rag, paparazzi, and celebrity stalking show were hounding him, and it’s all because of one _fucking_  kid, with one _fucking_  cell phone, taking one  _fucking_  picture, at the perfect _fucking_  time.

**_Cupid’s Arrow Strikes Tony Stark_ **

**_Countdown to Love_ **

**_Playboy Soon To Settle Down_ **

**_Time’s Up For Billionaire Bachelor_ **

**_Who Will Be The Lucky Mrs. Stark?_ **

**_Only 10 Days Left!_ **

**_Was He Faking It All Along?_ **

“I gave you that nude wristband to wear.” Pepper sighed from behind her desk, mostly not paying attention to the wallowing man slumped in one of her chairs. 

“It was stupid! And in the way.” Tony frowned, pushing her stapler with one finger to knock into the pen holder. “I didn’t think anyone would be a camera ninja. I’ve been wearing long sleeves outside.”

The redhead snatched her stapler and put it back where it belonged, then continued typing. “I’m not going to get any work done for  _your_  company if you keep pestering me.”

“Pepper, cut me some slack here. I’m dying!”

At that she slid her eyes over to his. “You are not dying. You’re going to meet your soul-mate. And no- before you say it, that’s not the same thing.” 

Tony crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and gripped his own thighs. “I don’t want to be tied to one person for the rest of my life! What if they’re boring? What if they’re ugly? Peps, what if they don’t like my music?”

_What if they hate me?_

Pepper pursed her lips, expression going soft. “Tony.” When he avoided her gaze, she rolled her eyes. “Tony, it’s going to be fine. The Timer doesn’t chose someone wrong for you. It doesn’t choose, even- It’s…” A soft sigh served as a pause as she searched for the right words. “I know it’s a threat to your lifestyle, your- your very personal maze of walls you built so high around yourself, but you have to face it.”

The scientist rolled his fingers into fists. “I don’t- But I don’t want to face it. I’m fine with things like they are now.” 

“Well, they’re going to change whether you like it or not, and you’re going to like it in the end, because they’re your  **soul-mate**. So quit bitching.” Her sliver of a smirk lessened the blow of her words, and Tony cursed the fates that didn’t make them a pair. Would make things so much easier. Or worse. Most likely worse.

Neither of them moved for a short moment, then he stood. “You’re right. And when you’re right, Miss Potts, you’re right.” Tony leaned over the desk, barely able to reach her cheek for an affectionate peck. She smiled at him. He stood and walked to the door, opening it and twisting the knob twice before looking back at her with his patented cheesy grin. “So if you need me, I’ll be locking myself in the Stark Tower lab for the rest of my life.”

“Tony!”

—

Tony knew the day before. He was actually looking at his own agenda for the next couple days, trying to figure out what he would be doing around the time he would be meeting “The One.”

At six pm he noticed the read-out, blinking heavily at it before slowly speaking, “JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The Timer says 24 hours.  _ **24 hours**_. But that doesn’t make any sense, right?”

“Sir, I-“

The brunet waved away his schedule from the holographic screen he was sitting in front of. “I mean, how the hell-” He stopped. “Six p.m.”

“Sir?” JARVIS sounded concerned.

“J, pull up all the different time zones six hours ahead of us.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the lines filled in on his screen, Tony scratched at his hair and spun the back of his chair to lean forward on, ignoring the groan of the metal. “I’m not supposed to be out of the country. Where the hell am I going?”

“There seem to be several places on the list where there are companies Stark Industries are affiliated with, sir. Would you like me to highlight those?”

“Yeah, that’d be tip-top, JARVIS.” The list was longer than he expected. “Well, I really wouldn’t mind getting called out to Paris. Oh, but French women really aren’t my style, are they, J?”

“You don’t tend to favor French women, no.”

“Italy, Switzerland, Spain, Germany. Oh really, I do not need a scary big German woman. Could you imagine her just- picking me up over her shoulder, or trying to feed me sauerkraut?”

“You paint a lovely picture, sir.”

“Lovely isn’t anywhere near-“

“Miss Potts has arrived and is taking the elevator.”

Tony ran his hand over his beard, stopping with his thumb at the corner of his mouth. “If she tells me we’re going to Germany, plan an escape route for me.”

“Of course, sir.” He rolled his eyes at his A.I.’s sarcastic tone.

—

Steve hadn’t figured it out when he first woke up that day. Not after eating breakfast and trying to understand anything in the newspaper that was left at the apartment door each morning. It wasn’t until he went out into the streets for lunch, craving the feeling of being around other people, that he looked at it and realized something was off. 

The super-soldier worried about a lot of things. Mostly about how he was going to fit in, if he was ever going to. He couldn’t change who he’d lost; what he’d lost. He could only move forward and try to build something new.

New was hard. Everything here was different, hard to adjust to. But what bothered him the most was his wrist. The Timer was the one thing that physically remained the same from before the serum. The last piece of himself that he could say was all him. 

Now he couldn’t even have that.

He didn’t know he would miss it being that “broken” line of zeroes until it actually had numbers on it.

But when he reached into his pocket to pull out a few bills for the hot-dog vendor he was about to buy from, he saw it. 

**0000 d 06 h 02 m 34 s**

That wasn’t… It was only almost noon. Timers were set to go off at midnight the day you were going to meet your soul-mate. Not… six in the evening. 

He was still broken.

Steve had stopped mid-step, in the throngs of sidewalk traffic, and a few people busied in their cell phones bumped into him, not bothering to apologize. He quickly made his way to an alley, somewhere to collect his thoughts. 

He almost felt relieved, in a way. Steve Rogers was still off. Different from the others. Afraid was another emotion he was feeling. Intensely. Had something from when he was trapped in the ice just messed with the sensors or however the Timer worked? Or was there another person walking around just as confused as he was?

Getting a bit dizzy from thinking about all this, the blond decided to go visit the one place he seemed to feel at home. The “old-fashioned” gym a few blocks from where S.H.I.E.L.D. had placed him.

—

Pepper had confirmed that no Stark Industry meetings overseas had been scheduled so late, which only left all of them more confused. What could possibly happen so close to the final hours that would send him away from New York?

Getting caught up in his work was something Tony was good at. Sometimes, this was good. It resulted in excellent upgrades to his armor, a new thing to sell under Stark Industries, or a cool gadget that may or may not be useful in the future. He’d go through pots and pots of coffee, hardly moving from his chair, muttering to his bots, JARVIS, and himself. Other times this lead to falling asleep on tools (causing some very interesting scars), missing flights or meetings, and very dangerous things he doesn’t even remember building.

He didn’t get caught up in work today. Tony tried, oh he did. Nothing could keep him focused, and he found himself making so many mistakes on the simplest things, that he stopped trying.

With a glass of scotch in hand, he sat in the comfiest chair he owned, not paying the least bit of attention to the gorgeous view. All he could do was stare at his wrist.

**0000 d 00 h 00 m 02 s**

**0000 d 00 h 00 m 01 s**

**0000 d 00 h 00 m 00 s**

A short series of beeps came from the device below his palm, then it was silent. Huh. That was it. Sometime in the next 24 hours, Tony Stark was going to meet his soul-mate and be chained to them for life. Forget personal choice, it’s your destiny!

Then again, Tony was used to that. He was born to be a genius and go to a prestigious school. He was meant to inherit the company and make weapons. His life planned out by others. Sometimes he’d strayed from the path they’d set out for him, and even in huge ways. Tony was no longer making weapons for the military, after all.

A soul-mate, however… there wasn’t much chance getting out of that. Though he really hated to admit it, he was scared. There were some things he wasn’t so public about. This wasn’t going to be one of those things he could hide away, like the arc reactor. So this person would be exposed to not only Tony and all of his issues, but the media and their frenzy.

And what if… He knew that Pepper and Rhodey were aware, seeing as Rhodey had once been a participant on a particularly memorable drunken night, and Pepper had escorted several men out of the house in past mornings. They were well-aware that Tony Stark was bisexual. The media, however, was not.

It wasn’t as if he thought something was wrong with himself, or that he was ashamed. Tony just didn’t believe it was anyone’s business but his own and whoever else was involved. Fuck the public opinion, he was going to fuck who he wanted.

This all was too stressful for him. He needed to finish some project. He couldn’t sit here moping about “female or male,” “German or French or Italian or whatever.” He’d meant to fix that last touches on Stark Tower’s arc reactor  energy for a while now. It was time to go for a swim.

—

Steve had been there since his fright on the streets, when he’d realized his countdown was unusual. He actually had taken a break in the locker room to watch it run out, see those ones and twos flip back to a familiar line. A few beeps had sounded, quiet in the ruckus of men outside his secluded corner. He felt no different. He’d closed his eyes slowly, counted to ten, and gone back out.

After, he tried very hard to lose himself in a workout, breaking punching-bag after punching-bag.  The Timer wasn’t visible when he was exercising, wrapped in tape, but now that he knew it was back at all zeroes, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

And what about the soul-mate he was going to meet? Steve had so much red tape around himself that he couldn’t begin to contemplate trying to have a relationship. How would he explain not knowing pop culture and being called in by S.H.I.E.L.D? There was bound to be a mission sooner or later. 

He tried to change his train of thought, but there actually wasn’t much else _to_  think about for him. He ended up remembering scarlet lips and a promise of a date, then the next punching-bag was slamming into the floor and skidding toward the wall. Just like so many others.

Breathing heavily, he wiped at his forehead and turned to grab another one from the line he’d set up behind himself. 

His alone time was interrupted by the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

It was time to do his duty.

—

“Grow a spine, JARVIS. I’ve got a date. Ish.”

When Tony entered the Tower sans suit, he was surprised to find Happy standing next to Pepper, champagne flute in hand.

“Levels are holding steady, I think.” Pepper chewed on her lip, her husband’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“And to what do I owe this intrusion, Hap?” The brunet took the drink his friend held out for him.

“Tonight’s supposed to be a celebration, boss. My darling wife’s hard work paying off, and you meeting your unlucky match.” Their glasses clinked together before Tony could pull his own out of reach.

“Ouch. And that’s not a cause for celebration. It’s the opposite of what I want. Pepper, tell your delusional happy husband Happy that it’s the opposite of what I want.” He took a sip, then hummed. “And I’d say Pep’s work was about… 12% of the final credit.”

“12%?” Pepper’s voice went a little higher than usual, and Happy slipped his hand to hold her at her elbow.

“Argument could be made for 15.”

Their little party was then interrupted by Agent. Er- Coulson. Or Phil or something. 

When Tony opened up the files and put them on his screen with an outward flick of his fingers, he was a bit impressed with the amount of information S.H.I.E.L.D. had been able to keep from him and JARVIS. But when his eyes moved from left to right, he became momentarily frozen. 

Or, to put it another way, he couldn’t stop looking at who wasn’t frozen anymore. This was a joke, right? A gag. They knew Howard had worked with the man, and that he was Tony’s idol when he was a kid, but then ended up hating because he was compared by his father to him all the time, and-

They were just pulling his leg. But they weren’t. And well, well, well, what was that beauty? He reached into the display and pulled out the cube from it, turning it in his hands. Pepper was right. He had homework.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s an honor to meet you. Officially.”

Steve smiled at that. Agent Coulson was very sincere, which was a nice change from the other S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel he’d met.

“I sort of met you. I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

His smile fell a little, though he was amused. Agent Coulson must be a… fan of his, then. Well, of the image the stories passed along after his death. Steve felt himself deflate whenever he heard about those. The way he was idolized was a bit intimidating, actually.

“I mean… I was- I was present. While you were unconscious. From the ice.” While the shorter man kept speaking, Steve stood, feeling awkward and trapped in the quinjet. But Coulson followed the super-soldier to also look out over the water through the front windshield. And really, what was Steve supposed to say to any of that?

“You know, it’s really just- just a huge honor to have you on board.” There was a little cough, and the blond looked down. Was he… blushing? “I actually-” There looked to be a struggle inside that man’s head on whether or not to say his next words, then his mouth set in a determined smile that didn’t entirely reach his eyes. “When I was little, I used to dream you were my soul-mate.”

Blue eyes widened. Did he mean-

“That you’d appear in the present one day,” the agent’s playful tone sounded forced, “and my Timer’d go off.” There was a small smile at the look on Steve’s face. It almost seemed sad. “But, then I found my match. So you can stop having an internal freak-out.”

“I didn’t mean to-” His mouth turned down at the corners, feeling as if he’d insulted Coulson.

“You didn’t. Don’t worry about it. I know your Timer’s story, so it’s not as if I wouldn’t be jumpy about the subject if I were you, myself.” His eyebrows drew inward, mouth small. “You worried?”

His fingers gripped the metal of the cockpit frame a little tighter. No secrets in S.H.I.E.L.D. “It went off yesterday. Today’s the day, I guess.”

“I’d be worried. Except I know you’ll do fine. Especially with this tesseract business.”

With the switch of topics Steve’s broad shoulders relaxed. “Just hope I’m the man for the job.”

“Oh you are. Absolutely.” He could tell the other man meant what he said. “We made some modifications to the uniform.” Coulson smiled to himself, looking proud. “I had a little design input.”

“The uniform? Aren’t the stars and stripes a little…” He sighed, because it was one thing to know what it was, and another entirely to actually say it out loud. “Old fashioned?”

“With everything that’s happening, the things that are about to come to light? People might just need a little old-fashioned.” 

—

With every new person he met, Steve had a small moment of panic. Were they his soul-mate? Was this the person his own life was tied to? And for every time he didn’t hear a set of beeps from the Timer, he felt relieved only briefly, anxiousness rising. 

Agent Romanov, the Black Widow, had been only a little terrifying. He’d seen her wrist, and the scars where a Timer used to be. Long slashes of white and off-color skin, marks where stitches had been over what must have been an ugly wound. She didn’t hide it, or mention she caught him looking. Steve was sure he didn’t want to know the story. Or he did, but wouldn’t dare to ask her. 

Dr. Banner had pulled him to the side and asked him about a few things, some elaboration on the files S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided on Steve. He found he didn’t mind as much talking to him as he did the medical agents. 

“So it just… started up when they pulled you out of the ice?” Banner’s eyes were tinted with what looked almost like glee. “Did you feel anything?”

“No,” Steve paused. “Wait, yes. I saw it was… working a few days later.” He glanced at his covered wrist out of habit, fingers twitchy. “I didn’t notice at first. And it-” He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say about the subject, but at the anxious scientist’s look, he really didn’t have the heart to hold back information. Steve almost felt embarrassed to continue, and his eyes darted away before coming back.

Bruce’s forehead crinkled, glasses he had pulled from his pocket sliding down his nose a small amount before he pushed them up with his index finger. “It what?”

Steve held up his forearm, unbuttoning the cuff and rolling it back, stalling. He didn’t want to say it out loud. What if Banner told him he was broken? He pursed his lips, then let out a long sigh. “It went off at six. In the evening. I don’t-” The blond tried to keep his arm steady as a calloused hand reached out. 

Bruce must have sensed his tension, and paused before he actually touched him. He peered over his glasses at Steve. “May I?” At the taller man’s nod, Bruce held his wrist between his first two fingers and his thumb. “At six?”

“Yes.” Steve held his breath, waiting for the other to find something wrong just by looking at him. 

Running a finger over the screen of the super-soldier’s Timer, Bruce pursed his lips. “That’s a rare condition.” He saw fear light Steve’s features, and backtracked. “Not- It’s not bad. I just mean that it’s not something that happens very often.” When Steve’s expression didn’t change, he let go of him and let out a huff of air. “I’ve heard of a few cases where you leave your own timezone, as in travel to another country, and it’s- the Timer, it’s on the other country’s time and not your own.”

It felt as if a knot in his muscles had been unwound. “That’s… thank you, Dr. Banner.” He offered a small smile.

“Please, ” Bruce waved a hand in front of himself, then stuffed both of them in his pockets. “Call me Bruce.”

His smile widened. “Bruce.”

Steve was going to continue the conversation with asking more about the subject, when Fury called him over to speak with him on Loki and the Tesseract. It left him on edge again. He tried to focus on it, and not where his soul-mate was, listening intently to each new piece of information, every new development or clue as to how to find Loki and figure out what he was up to. 

When they finished, Agent Coulson asked him to the side. Trading cards. Of course he’d sign them.

And then, they found him. Loki. Stuttgart, Germany. A flare of nervousness washed over him. Six-hour time difference. Just what Bruce was talking about. 

He left the bridge to get ready and put on the uniform, nervousness of two things warring for top spot.

—

When Fury sent JARVIS the e-files and he skimmed through them, Tony almost fell back into his chair in a bout of hysterical laughter.

Germany.

Captain America.

Fighting the Norse god, Loki. 

Did Norse gods have Timers? Probably not. Though it would be just his luck to have a homicidal other-worldly asshole he was bonded to for life.

Well, Captain America was a big, muscly blond. Decidedly not female. And… a whole can of worms Tony didn’t even want to think about. Cap, his soul-mate? Nope.

Not a chance.

There were few subjects that his father liked to discuss with Tony when he was younger. Taking over the company when he was old enough, pushing him to do better and more, and Captain Goddamn America.

Tony had eaten up the stories when he was a kid. Captain America, hero of the States. Larger than life; gorgeous and strong. Kindest guy out there, and brave enough to always get his man and save everyone he could in the process. His action figure was one of the few toys Tony had asked for, content to make most of his own playthings himself out of scraps. 

But as he’d gotten older, the stories had turned from exciting and something he looked forward to, to something his drunken father yelled about. How Howard couldn’t save him, how he was everything that was good, and why couldn’t Tony be more like him? Why couldn’t Tony stop doing things for attention and be a better man, better than Howard?

It was enough to turn everything he liked about the icon to something he never wanted to talk about. And now he was going to fight alongside him. 

A normal flight to Stuttgart would be about 8-10 hours. He, of course, was not normal, and estimated that he’d made it in 6 or so in the suit. Iron Man, best way to travel.

He’d like to say he didn’t think about Captain America on his way over, and was just forming a strategy to take down Loki and get the Tesseract, but that’d be a lie.

—

Steve was having more trouble than he should be with Loki. This is what he was talking about when he was saying he didn’t really live up to expectations they built up of him. Maybe he was a bit out of practice. On one hand, it was almost nice getting back into this; having a challenge. Steve had expected quite a fight. But after he kicked Loki’s face and was thrown to the ground, he wondered how long he could keep this up.

Then rock music blasted from somewhere in the sky.

“Agent Romanov, ‘ya miss me?” A smooth, confident voice came over the commline.

Steve couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but things became clear when he caught his first sight of the Iron Man suit. It flew under the quinjet and the repulsors hit Loki square in the chest, knocking him back into concrete steps and stopping his attack.

Iron Man- Tony Stark, slammed into the bricks with his fist down. 

This, Steve wasn’t expecting. He wasn’t prepared to meet Howard’s son just yet. From the files he’d read, Tony Stark was just as arrogant and flashy as his father, if not more so. But Steve had liked Howard, in the end. He was a good man. 

He only had a second to think that he hadn’t met him yet, and they were in Germany, and could he be-

Then Iron Man stood, and he couldn’t think about anything but the amazing piece of technology (that Stark had built himself, no less,) that moved forward and trained all its weapons on Loki.

Picking up his shield, Steve walked over to stand beside him and keep an eye on their target, though it almost seemed a moot point. 

“Make your move, reindeer games.” Hands came up. “Good move.”

He let himself breathe, small pants from exertion in the fight. Steve might actually be sweating from fighting. Without looking at him, he nodded slightly and addressed him. “Mr. Stark.”

The suit did the same. “Cap’n.”


End file.
